


Leave a Light On

by merigold



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Anxiety, Domestic, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9135379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merigold/pseuds/merigold
Summary: It's one of those days. Abe tries his best.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hudebuc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hudebuc/gifts).



University is different. The scale of everything is different. 

Abe Takaya and Mihashi Ren live together in a small student housing complex, tucked at the end of a quiet street, near the train tracks but far from the station. It’s cheap and sparse, but affordable. Close to campus so Mihashi can get to practice without sacrificing too much sleep, around the corner from a bakery and a konbini. 

Abe watches the clock as his hands automatically go through the motions of making riceballs. Practice should be over soon, and while Abe is not continuing as Mihashi’s catcher at this level, he can do this. The rice is too hot and he runs his hands under the faucet when the grains begin to stick. Neither of them are good cooks and their apartment doesn’t have a real kitchen, but it’s okay.

They’ve been together, quietly, for a few years. University is their first time living together. It’s nice, warm and domestic in a way Abe hadn’t imagined he’d needed. At least, most of the time. 

The door opens quietly and Abe can tell without turning, from he sound alone, that Mihashi’s face will be tense, pale and heart-wrenching. It’s one of those days, then. 

Anxiety is insidious, creeping through his pitcher like an incurable disease. Sometimes it lays dormant, but never forever. University, with all its new challenges, has drawn it out again more often, stealing the light from Mihashi’s eyes and making Abe frustrated and helpless in its face. Living together, it’s clearer than ever that there are things Abe cannot protect him from, battles inside himself with no winner. 

Abe knows he’s not the best with people, with emotions. Not everything in the world is as simple as baseball. When Mihashi flinches from him, he wants to shout, to shake him until the self-doubt falls from his shoulders and the fear breaks from his eyes. This only ever makes things worse.

He has been working on it, though, with the single-minded obsession he has for baseball and Mihashi. He’s researched, reading books and blogs and magazines, desperate to find a way to help, to be better. When each checklist of what NOT to do fits the bill of his natural reaction, it’s humbling. 

Abe sets down his half-formed riceball and forces his voice to be even, not too loud, as he turns to face Mihashi. “Welcome home.”

It’s a routine greeting. Mihashi startles anyway. Abe’s heart hurts as he forces his fists not to clench, to remain relaxed at his side. The room is too bright and too loud for this, the radio blasting the play-by-play of a baseball game. It had felt cozy until now.

Mihashi’s biting his lip, standing in the entryway of his own apartment with his shoulders hunched in a way that says he doesn’t feel like he belongs. This is why Abe has such a hard time not yelling.

“You should take a bath,” Abe says, voice tight. Mihashi picks up on the tension and pulls into himself further. Abe forces a deep breath as Mihashi nods shakily, slipping off his shoes and heading towards their tiny bath. 

Once the door to the bathroom is closed, Abe turns off everything but a soft lamp. He hears the water of Mihashi’s bath being drawn as he turns off the loud radio and cleans up their little cooking area. The riceballs get covered in a towel. It’s a little awkward to get their unwieldy futon down from the closet by himself, but Abe manages, pulling out the extra blankets as well. The soft comforter is covered with a pattern of tiny baseballs.

It’s easier to make the apartment quiet and soft than it is to make himself that way, Abe thinks as he grabs Mihashi’s pajamas and set of clean underwear. 

He makes sure to make noise as he approaches the bathroom door and knocks softly, but there’s still an audible splash as Mihashi flinches. Abe clenches his hands tight into the pajamas and then forcibly smoothes them out again. 

“Mihashi, pajamas.” Abe opens the door just a little and sets them inside, then closes it again. 

It’s full-dark outside by the time Mihashi emerges, hair still a little too damp and eyes still a little too lost. Abe has been watching a baseball game on their little TV with the volume turned down as low as it can go. 

Mihashi’s going to catch a cold, with wet hair like that, the idiot. Abe wants to take a towel and fluff it dry, then wrap a blanket and his arms around Mihashi’s shoulders and never let any of the undeserving world touch him again. 

Instead, he pats the spot next to himself on their futon and forces his voice as gentle as it can go. “Tajima’s team is playing.”

“I-I.” MIhashi begins, and Abe waits for the words to unstick themselves from his throat. Mihashi sits down next to Abe. “I texted him. For. G-good luck.”

It’s the first words he’s spoken since getting home. 

“Good.” Abe slowly reaches out to put his arm around Mihashi’s shoulders. His heart soars as Mihashi presses into his side, just a little. 

I missed you, Abe thinks, as they watch the game. It’s the last inning and Tajima’s team looks to have the win locked up. At one point the camera sweeps over the stands and Tajima’s sprawling family is visible in the crowd, a mass of pride, love, and handmade signs.

When the game ends, Abe turns the TV off. “I made riceballs. Are you hungry?” his voice is a little rough from the long silence, but Mihashi’s warm side doesn’t so much as tremble at the sound. Better. Much better.

“N-not hungry.” Mihashi says, covering his mouth and scrunching up his eyes in a yawn, and Abe wonders if there will ever be a day when his heart doesn’t feel like bursting from this love, overflowing. He thinks probably not. 

Mihashi is a competitive athlete, he can’t be skipping meals, especially after a hard practice, but. Abe will make sure he eats double tomorrow. They climb into the futon together, after brushing their teeth and turning off the remaining lamp.

After a bad day, when Mihashi calms down and his eyes clear, he’s always bonelessly tired. He snuggles into Abe’s side, breathing into his neck, and Abe finally lets himself relax too. 

He can’t fight Mihashi’s battles for him. He can’t protect him from the world without taking it away as well. All he can do at the end of the day is leave a light on.

Maybe that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Light - Sleeping at Last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7egYKkIKqDs). The lyrics are perfect for Abemiha.


End file.
